


Second Chances

by edokko



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 11:37:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15072362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edokko/pseuds/edokko
Summary: "Don't act like it didn't happen." Collins spits back, a hint of anger in his firm voice. He runs his hand through his hair.Farrier sighs and lets out a sad smile."It's alright. These things happen." Farrier takes a long sip of his tea, and puts in another spoonful of sugar into his mug. "War makes monsters out of men."





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to a dear friend.

The birds outside the window are loudly chirping when Farrier awakes, spring sunshine filtering through. His right leg feels stiff and painful as usual, a physical reminder of his time as a prisoner in Germany. He lifts it with both hands until he feels his foot touch the cold, wooden floor. 

Leaning on the wall for support, he makes his way down the creaking staircase, cursing himself for taking the upstairs bed to sleep in instead of the sofa in the living room on the ground floor. With each step he takes a sharp breath, gritting his teeth to get through the excruciating pain in his leg that feels like electricity every time it touches the ground.

Collins is already awake, steam from the boiling kettle filling up the tiny kitchen. Farrier takes a seat at the table, saying nothing and staring at Collins' back intently while he continues to prepare breakfast. He puts down a jar of strawberry jam and two slices of toast on a slightly chipped plate for Farrier, who starts spreading the jam. When he takes a bite from one corner the bread is too hard and stale, but still delicious to anything he can remember eating during his time at the camp.

Collins slams down two cups of tea on the table, and gets a small jar of sugar from a cupboard. He hands Farrier a small tea spoon without looking at him, and Farrier quickly puts in three large spoonfuls of sugar into his tea. 

They sit there without speaking, the crunching sound of toast and loud sips of tea filling in the silence.

"I'm sorry." Collins blurts out, staring down into the black cup of tea. 

"For...?" Farrier asks in a curious tone. 

"Don't act like it didn't happen." Collins spits back, a hint of anger in his firm voice. He runs his hand through his hair. 

Farrier sighs and lets out a sad smile. 

"It's alright. These things happen." Farrier takes a long sip of his tea, and puts in another spoonful of sugar into his mug. "War makes monsters out of men." 

Collins smiles weakly at these words, feeling no comfort. It was war, it was what he was asked to do, and he had to kill or be killed, but trying to justify it to himself never gives him any peace. 

"At least you haven't changed." Collins say, gesturing to the sugar.

"Only a few things bring me any joy now, but sugar is one of them."

"And flying. Never forget that." Collins stares outside through the kitchen window longingly, imagining his old Spitfire outside, beckoning him to fly and return to the sky. 

Farrier reaches out and lightly squeezes Collins' fingers, rough, burnt, and bruised from the war, but still all in one miraculous piece.

"It's good to be home, Collins."

**Author's Note:**

> This was in response to a prompt for post-violent fight Farrier/Collins, where drunk Collins becomes physically violent and breaks things around the house. I didn't interpret this as him hurting Farrier physically, but more emotionally as Farrier sees how badly the war has broken the man he loves.


End file.
